A Kiss Before You Die
by roguefire28
Summary: Dean and Sam Winchester take on a case that seems to keep piling up more questions than answers. Who is friend and who is foe? Time is running out for fourteen missing girls and the clock is ticking on the brothers.
1. Questions Without Answers

_Hungary, 1614_

The wind swept through the cemetery, whistling past the stone graves and markers, sweeping dead leaves from the ground and dancing them through the air. A harvest moon hung low in the sky, brilliant orange against a canvas of black, and few stars were able to outshine it. The silence cloaking the air was complete and settled over the area like a heavy blanket. It was easy to believe that this was the last place on earth, and that only the silence of the dead would be left when the world came to an end.

Alina rested one hand on the long-sword at her side and the other hung loose, the wind brushing against it with no more force than a lover's touch. Her blouse was ruffled in the breeze as her eyes watched the cemetery grounds with more than just curiosity. The corset around her torso was not uncomfortable and it allowed her chest to rise and fall with the pattern of her easy breathing. She was not afraid, as most people would have been, treading into the land of the dead after the sun had gone down. She turned and her boots crunched against the dead leaves as she made her way farther into the cemetery.

It was peaceful here, as it could not be in other parts of the recently war-ravaged country. Chaos had found a home in Hungary and was just now beginning to loosen its claws. The last few years had seen war with the Turks in the South, and the monstrous actions of one Countess Erzsébet Báthory, who had died this very year after being locked in her own castle for three years.

Except she had not. Alina knew that the deadly Countess would return, and her hunger would not be satiated with the life of a mortal. For she was not mortal, and her apparent death in the tower of her castle had been a ruse, one that the mortals had fallen for. They would bury her body and leave her to rot in the ground, only the fair skin of the Countess would never rot and she would not stay in the ground as the nobility and peasantry would hope.

Alina's footsteps carried her over the ground slowly and the silence of the dead did not bother her. People would see her as a witch if they found her here, only Alina was never found. She was a shadow, there one minute and swiftly gone the next. Still, if they found her they would try her as a witch for they were a superstitious lot and rightly so. Alina smiled grimly at the thought, at the knowledge that what people feared most lived in the shadows alongside her. But one of those shadows would rise again and live to begin her reign of terror anew, if Alina did not stop her. And Alina, though she was not a saint and blood stained her hands just as any other creature that lurked in the dark, had sworn that the Countess would never take another life.

Alina stopped before the grave that held the Countess's body, and her mouth turned down into a frown. The grave was disturbed, the dirt still fresh but now littering the ground as though a storm had blown past. Alina knew without checking that the grave was empty. There was no body to be found here. She turned away from it and studied the cemetery, her eyes searching the shadows between the headstones and returning to the empty grave behind her.

The Countess was gone.

_Johnson City, Texas 2006_

"We're gonna have to go out for dinner, dude. Half the stuff in that vending machine looks like it's been around since the middle ages."

Sam Winchester tossed a sheet of paper to his brother the minute he walked through motel room door. Dean caught it deftly and sat down on the edge of the bed to scan it.

**Victims: 14 Females between the ages of 10-23 reported missing from Rock Springs, Bastrop and Eden, TX areas. All were taken after dark, signs of struggle in a few cases, no suspects. **

**Crime Scene Reports: Police report that there are no signs of breaking and entering, all of the girls were taken after dark, there is no sign of violence other than signs of minor struggle in a few cases, and there are no leads as to where the girls have been taken. **

**Pattern: Suggests that the perpetrator is moving from town to town, collecting victims for unknown purpose. **

Sam had taken care to draw a small map at the bottom of the page, starting with the Rock Springs area of Texas. The map traced a line from Rock Springs to Bastrop and from Bastrop to Eden, TX. Dean's eyes widened when he saw what Sam was getting at.

"That's what I thought," Sam said, in reference to his brother's expression. "Whoever the killer is, they're following the beginnings of a rough pentagram. It's not perfect but if they follow the pattern that I think they are, they'll end up here next."

Dean looked to a bigger map that Sam had set out on the table, with the same drawing outlined in marker on its surface. The path took the line to San Antonio, Texas next. If the killer followed the path that Sam thought it would, then their next stop had to be San Antonio. They might be able to beat the kidnapper to its haunting grounds and save some lives.

In the last few crime scenes they had been able to investigate personally, the last one being in Eden, TX, the brothers had found signs of the supernatural that the cops were never going to notice. By the window of one girl's room, a 16 year old FFA member by the name of Bethany Thomas, they had found three droplets of blood. The EMF meter had gone off the charts in that room, suggesting that something supernatural had been there recently.

With such a high-profile case, however, it was going to be difficult to get ahead of the cops and work in the shadows. News stations from all over the country were covering the disappearances, and tossing around words like "serial kidnapper" and "tragedies".

Dean shook his head. "San Antonio, huh? How are we gonna find whatever this thing is in a city that damn big?"

Sam frowned. "I don't have the slightest clue. But if I'm right then we can at least beat this thing there. That will give us one head start. I think if we just look at where the other girls were taken from we might get a clue as to what it prefers."

"Residential neighborhoods, mostly. Middle class families, no animals in the house, all the girls were young, attractive, and. . . ," Dean trailed off.

"Dark haired. And one other thing, all of the girls had at least one parent working outside of the home at night," Sam put in, his voice registering excitement.

"That gives us a place to start," Dean said as he slipped on his jacket. "Let's just hope we catch the bastard this time."

Sam nodded gravely, a strand of dark brown hair drifting down to settle near his left eye as he lifted the duffel bag containing his travel things over his shoulder and opened the door. He stopped short as an envelope fluttered from the door jamb and landed on the cement in front of him.

Dean stepped up beside his brother and took the white paper from his brother as his green eyes searched the darkness, seeking out whoever might have stuck it to the door before leaving. There appeared to be nobody lurking in the area. Dean walked back into the motel room and set his bag down on the floor by his feet. He tore open the envelope and read it aloud to his brother.

_Dean and Sam Winchester, _

_You are on the correct path. Go to San Antonio, but do not waste your valuable time searching in vain. Search the area around the San Antonio State Hospital (__6711 S New Braunfels Ave # 100) and there you will find what you are looking for. _

_Sincerely, _

_A Friend_

"A friend?" Sam echoed. "What kind of friend leaves notes and doesn't bother to stay for a beer?"

Dean looked up at his brother as he pocketed the note. "Since when do you consider beer your beverage of choice?"

"Nevermind," Sam told him. "Who would leave that?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we'll find out. Whoever it is, they seem to think they know us."

Sam pulled the motel room door open again, searching the ground as if expecting to find another cryptic note. The night remained silent and Sam stared at the harvest moon that hung low in the sky, painting an orange cast over the asphalt of the parking lot. The Impala gleamed in the light, a black panther on a sea of black. He walked out into cool November air and Dean shut the door behind him.

"I don't like this," Sam stated.

"Agreed, but we don't have much choice. We don't have any other leads to follow and if this. . person. . .is right, then we'll be saving a lot of time instead of chasing our tails. Our first priority is getting those girls back to their families."

"I know. You don't have to tell me what's important. But I don't like mystery people, and we don't even know if this person is a friend or if they're playing a game with us. It wouldn't be the first time."

Dean shrugged as he unlocked the driver side door. "And it won't be the last. Either way, I'm sure this isn't the last note we'll get and whoever is writing it, maybe we'll find them too."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Sam told his brother darkly.


	2. Shadows

_San Antonio, Texas 2006_

Sam tapped the pencil against the scarred round table in the corner of the room, bending over his sheet of notes in the dim lamp light that encircled it. To his right were three books, spread out to various pages, each detailing various creatures that might abduct girls in the specified age group that they were looking for. The list was getting narrower by the minute. On the wall Dean had tacked up the map with the half-drawn pentagram and stuck three red thumbtacks to the cities that the girls had already been taken from.

They had arrived in San Antonio less than two hours ago, checked into a local motel near the area that the note had told them to go. They had become fairly certain that the San Antonio State Hospital had nothing to do with the attacks in general. Why the note-writer had instructed them to go there was beyond them.

The San Antonio State Hospital had been built in 1892 and took up more than 500 acres of land on the southern edge of San Antonio. It had been called the Southwest Lunatic Asylum, until laws had demanded that the name be changed to "state hospital". It was still fully operational, with a full staff and many patients, and there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary in the facility or around it.

"Why here?" Sam wondered, tapping the pencil harder in frustration.

Dean looked up from where he had been cleaning a rifle with care, and stared at the No. 2 pencil furiously clicking against the wood. His eyes narrowed sharply for a moment then he sighed and looked at his brother.

"I don't know. I doubt we're going to be able to get a lead on this thing until it strikes. We don't know where or when that's going to be, and we can't guess at who it's going to take next."

He returned his attention to the rifle as Sam pushed back from the table, sticking the pencil in his mouth and running his hands through his hair. He stood up, pacing the floor like a restless caged tiger.

"What if this is a trick?" he demanded. "What if we're following the wrong trail and as we sit here on our asses, some poor girl is getting snatched out of her bedroom on the other end of town?"

Dean shook his head mildly but didn't look up. "That's entirely possible. But the MO isn't always the same. Some of the girls were taken on their way home from school, at the park, it's entirely random."

"Then how the hell are we supposed to stop it?" Sam half-shouted.

Dean set the rifle down and looked at his brother with furrowed eyebrows. Behind the navy blue curtain of the motel room the sun was beginning to set, sinking low against the horizon and painting the sky in a canvas of flame red to light pink. Dark thunderheads were rolling in from the north, and the contrast to the sunset was striking.

"Sam, what is wrong with you?" Dean asked.

"Nothing," his brother countered, sinking back into the wooden chair.

"Okay," Dean said slowly, with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not the over-share, Care Bear moment kind of guy, but nothing is not the word I would use to describe that little outburst."

"It's just that we have no idea what to do on this one," Sam said after a moment. "Those girls keeping disappearing and we don't know if they're still alive, or dead, where they are or even what the hell is taking them. We don't have the first clue and it doesn't look like we'll be getting one any time soon."

Dean nodded. "You can't get wrapped up in this, dude. You have to separate yourself. I've told you that a hundred times. Don't get attached."

"I'm not attached, Dean," Sam said sharply. "I just want to find those girls alive and get them back to their families."

"And I want to what? Throw them off a cliff?" Dean snapped. "I want the same thing you do, but losing your cool isn't going to find them faster."

Sam sighed and nodded, conceding his older brother's point. Dean was right. He moved the blinds from the window and stared out as the rim of the sun disappeared over the horizon and a spike of lightning cracked against the sky, the bullwhip of the angels. It was going to storm tonight, most likely sooner rather than later. He stared across the parking lot as the shadows descended.

"Dean," he said sharply.

Dean stood up quickly and came to his brother's side, detecting the urgency in Sam's tone. He looked over Sam's shoulder and found nothing but empty parking lot, shadows deepening in pools of inky black where the overhead lights didn't reach.

"I saw something," Sam said quietly. "At least, I thought I did."

"What did you see?"

"It looked like, a shadow. A person, maybe. It was right over there," Sam pointed to the far end of the parking lot where the asphalt ended and a line of scattered trees began.

Dean looked again and for a second swore that he could feel someone staring back. The feeling unsettled him, but passed quickly. Nerves? There was nothing in the shadows but darkness, and there was no shape of a person that he could see.

"Well, there isn't anything there now," Dean told him.

Both men jumped as a sharp crack hit the door three times. Knocking. Three rapid knocks then silence. Dean looked at Sam and moved slowly to the bed, pulling a 9mm handgun that he had already cleaned and reassembled from the covers and taking the safety off. A resounding click was heard inside the room as he cocked back the hammer and moved military style to the side of the door, covering Sam's back.

He felt jumpy and his hands were slick with sweat where he held the gun. He remembered the feeling of being watched and a knot formed in his gut. Sam hesitated at the doorknob, seeking out his brother's face one last time, but only silence was on the other side. He pulled back the chain lock and disengaged the door lock then quickly pulled open the door.

A white envelope fluttered to the ground, stirring slightly as though it were trying to run away in the breeze that had brushed past. The silence outside was absolute, too quiet, the silence of death descended upon the land. Sam scanned the area but found nothing, no sign of life, and no sign that anyone had ever been there to deposit the envelope. He picked it up with trembling hands and shut the door quickly, holding it up for Dean to see.

"How?" Dean wondered. "We were standing at the window. . .we would have seen whoever stuck that there."

Sam shrugged but the movement was more nerves than a casual brush off. "I don't know. I wish whoever it is would stop playing games, though."

Dean tucked the gun into the waistband of his pants after he put the safety back on and watched as Sam tore open the envelope. They read the note together.

_Dean and Sam Winchester,_

_Glad to see that soldiers still know how to follow orders. Here's the next one. If you don't follow it, another girl will be lost. If you do, you just might save a life. Go to the Brooks Afb Golf Course. Do not delay. _

_Sincerely, _

_A Friend_

Dean scowled at the letter. He didn't like being jerked around. Whoever was writing this obviously thought that they knew a lot about the brothers. They had referenced soldiers, which was how Dean had always felt about their profession. Soldiers, following orders, fighting the good fight, saving lives in a battle that could never really be won.

Sam stared at the sheet of paper but the words did not change. He looked at Dean slowly.

"Golf course?" he echoed. "That seems like a trap."

"It could be. Could be anything. Could be the Supernatural Hunters of America decided to throw us a surprise party, or could be we've been cordially invited to be sacrifices to Satan. Who knows? We don't have any other leads."

Sam shook his head. "You want to just follow the directions? Walk in blind?"

"Sam, what other choice do we have right now? You read the letter. Another girl is gonna go poof unless we show up at this golf course."

"I can't believe you. That's _if _this person is telling the truth!"

Dean reassembled the rifle he had been cleaning and set it on the bed, sliding his black leather jacket on over his shoulders. He didn't like it anymore than Sam did, but it appeared that they had little choice but to follow the instructions on the letter. If it was a trap, they would walk right into it. If it was truth, they would save a life tonight. Either way, Dean was determined to find out who was dropping envelopes on his doorstep the way that Fed Ex left packages.

"Sam, we're going. That's final. Get your stuff and get in the car."

He left the motel room, leaving his brother to scowl at his back as he walked across the parking lot. He stopped and looked around on a whim, searching the area for anything that didn't belong.

For a fleeting moment he could have sworn that a crouched shape on the roof over their room stared back at him, but when he narrowed his eyes and blinked there was nothing there but tiles. Just a roof. He shook his head, wondering if he was at last losing it. He stared again at the spot where he thought the shadow had been but, as before, all appeared normal.

Sam brushed past him and Dean followed, each climbing into the car in silence. As the Impala pulled out of the parking lot with a roar and a squeal of tires, neither saw a shadow detach itself from the side of the building and watch their taillights dwindle in the darkness.


End file.
